I wonder if Eco Pods make good echoes...
I’m environmentally conscious. I don’t pollute, and my biggest pet peeve is polluters. Whether it’s plastic CD wrappers being dropped walking out of stores, fast food bags being tossed out car windows, or emptied glass bottles being left in parking lots, my blood instantly boils. I’m not perfect in the green department, but in this regard, I mark myself an emerald shade. (I even changed one of my friend’s littering ways.)
Not to be outdone, this is filled with marijuana plants.
So I’m always looking for ways to improve, and it appears the city of Boston is, too. An architecture firm and science lab teamed up to produce the above…
…a vertical tower of prefabricated “eco pods” filled with bio-fuel producing algae for the space. The new tower would act as a center to test new algae species and different growing methods. (via Inhabitat)
Even though I truly despise Boston’s sports teams (I’ve mentioned it before), I really liked Boston Legal. And now I’m in favor of the sci-fi flavored forward-thinking that’s going on there. Perchance the developers bring such technologies to Detroit? We have tons of abandoned buildings.
Do you think robot arms are ticklish?
P.S. I also hold this against Boston…
Self-Titled Boston Rob: World-Titled Survivor Douche
Sometimes I wish I could remember every dream I had, because the ones that I do… whew boy! Where do they come from?
Last night was no exception.
If there was going to be a visual mash-up of ideas, it’d be best represented by this:
Something something America! AKA Freudians have fun!
Using the above graphic you should be able to ascertain the elements involved… so here’s the gist of the dream.
There was a grouping of triplets (is that how you’d refer to them?), and they were preparing to set a new Guinness World Record. Grant it, the triplets in the dream were burnout dudes, but I figured why not put the Dahm sisters up because of their, um, patriotism.
The new record they were setting to create? Who could stay the longest at the bottom of an active volcano. The location they chose was Hawaii. The seat of choice was their old green sofa. The method they chose to pass the time was getting high.
The world was watching, they set the record, and became overnight celebrities. They even ended up releasing an album with Kid Rock.
I wish I could tell you how long they stayed in the volcano, or that I could regale you with an anecdote of how the brothers lit their joints on molten lava, but I remember none of that.
What I do remember was the commemorative license plate they offered in the fine state of Hawaii:
(Fairly) Artistic Representation... I'm getting better at this stuff if I do say so myself
INGREDIENTS: Four pints of $2 Guinness. And water.
When I was just a wee lad back in the day (I’m prepping for St. Paddy’s), it was awful fun for the adults give kids a sip of beer and watch their reactions. I’m the oldest boy of all the cousins on my father’s side, and for quite awhile I was the only boy (my brother broke the streak when I was nine… there were nine girls and me… ever notice how the more girls there are, the higher the octave of screeching goes?)
What I’m getting at is it wasn’t uncommon for my elders to make me the butt of the joke. Some might have thought it would encourage drinking, but I never took a sip of alcohol (not counting my relatives’ pranks) until I turned 19 and could legally do so in Canada. My other tendencies in alluded-to innocence: I was more interested in Nintendo than IN-tendo (if you catch my innuendo), smoking was a disgusting habit my parents had and I swore I would never have, and drugs… well, I’d stick only to any of the natural kind.
But nowadays, you have 13 year olds becoming fathers…
…parents pulling new tricks on their kids for laughs (and filming it and putting it on YouTube… “Thanks Dad… what are you, like, thirteen, or something?”)…
…or teaching their kids to be pretty good at smoking.
Vodpod videos no longer available.
I guess you could always over indulge your child and baby them so they can become insulated and protected from the rest of the world (read: spoiled), that they never have to deal with R|E|A|L|I|T|Y. Heaven forbid someone take their Cloudsong…
Asta La Windows Vista, Baby!
The hell hole that stole my soul will finally be no more. Circuit Shitty is set to close it’s remaining 567 stores by the end of March, and it’s website will shut down today.
Why do I have such disdain for the retail store? Let me count the ways:
- I took the job to avenge my sister – I should have known better. I had recently moved back from L.A. where I worked at a Best Buy. There, they had taught me that “Circuit City” was the enemy and “working for commission” was evil. As the DVD market was beginning to grow, I remember us laughing about the ridiculous plan CC had in motion to develop DIVX (more on this in a moment). My sister, Tammie, had opened store #3604 back home, and she had been complaining about a manager that kept hitting on her/harrassing her. She refused to take action so I got a job there to make sure it stopped. It did. That manager ended up helping me make a lot of money, so he ended up being an all right guy. Cursed Southern salesmanship! (NOTE: To be read as “curs-ed”… not “curst”… thanks.)
- It elevated my lifestyle. When I started there in August of ’98, working in the SOHO department (Small Office Home Office), I made something like $700 my first full-commission week. The next week, I made $1oo more, and the next – $200. I had worked at a medical center prior to BB, and at BB, I was the Media Department’s Senior (which is a splash above regular). This money influx was amazing. There were days I could make my week’s pay that day. I spent more than I saved. And it took me a long time to break that habit, as well as another.
- It turned me to drinking excessively, amongst other things. You see it in every movie: Tom Cruise, Matthew McConaughey, Giovanni Ribisi… they start making money and things *snap* start *snap* happening. I had so much money I didn’t know what to do. Couple this with the fact I worked at a nightclub Friday and Saturday nights… well, I didn’t do completely stupid things. I just drank more than I even do now and partook in inhaling and occasionally ingesting certain types of vegetation…
- I had to make the sale. No. Matter. What. I never outrightly lied. I may have slightly bent or tip-toed to the edge of what our service plans covered, but as long as I worked there, anyone that came in with a problem was taken care of by me. Too bad I was only there for a year-and-a-half (too long).
- The DIVX Dupe. For those of you only familiar with the media format, there used to be format with the same name. The idea was you’d buy a disc for $4.50 and once you played it in your machine, you had access to it for 48 hours, after which you had the option to pay $15 more to permanently unlock it, or could “rent” it again for $3. It put a DVD player in my house, but it was a dumb idea. And I was forced to sell this product to every customer. And since it was in the TV Department, all out wars broke out between SOHO and TV (because of the spiffs). When it finally folded as a format, all the discs went on sale for a buck or two. I bought pretty much every one. They exist in a box in my basement and predicted my eventual DVD purchasing habit (I currently own over 1200).
- The CompuServe Rebate Ripoff. For the first Christmas I worked, people had to save up to buy a home pc. The cheapest complete system (14″ monitor, tower, printer, and of course – service plan) cost $1585.55 out the door, with something like $50-$100 in rebates. I killed at selling this package, and it probably made me eighty-some bucks a pop. The following August I spent backpacking in Europe and upon returning, the well had dried up. The cheap machine boom was upon us (as was the looming Y2K fiasco), and at the center of the shitstorm laid the CompuServe rebate. Anyone would get a $400 dollar rebate for signing a 3-year agreement to join the dial-up service at $21.95 per month, so everyone and their kitchen sink were coming in for the “FREE” pc. Hardly any commission on that, and try to sell service plans I did – to no avail. Where I had been swimming in cash at the end of ’98, I dove into an empty pool at the end of ’99. I wouldn’t last many months more because in addition to making peanuts for pay (I was back down to $400 per week – the horror!), the quality of products we sold had also diminished. This lead me to take a second job overnight at Target which brought me a great group of friends I still associate with to this day, so maybe Circuit City wasn’t that bad after all.
(I feel cleansed like this was some type of confession. BB CCing you in hell!)
- Another one BUYts the dust…
First, turn off the sound to this video. It’s completely irrelevant to the experience (and that’s how I originally saw it). Now pretend you’re bombed:
I was at one of my local hangouts, pounding back a few ol’ El Millerlitos, when this damn CNBC show caught my eye on the table’s flat screen. It wasn’t this particular segment, but what I bore witness to was a brain derailment. She was pretty enough on her own (she being Carmen Wong-Ulrich, a.k.a. The Great American Mixing Pot), but what happens at the 1:10 mark persisted for what seemed like ten minutes. At the time of the inebriation, I sat in stunned disbelief and nausea because I couldn’t tell if the camera was moving or the background. And what’s with the insane amount of jarring cuts!
Might be fun to watch high, though…
Aristotle Adobe? Socraterra Cotta!
Group time is philosophy time for me… pure and simple. That’s how the Greeks did it (I presume their poison might have been strapping young lads); that’s how the Beats did it (they sure loved their opiates); and for me – it’s the bar and the beer.
In Michigan, Proposals 1 and 2 both passed, and while the legalization of marijuana for medical use gets a fair poke with the jokes, it was the stem cell research that started the rant. (Okay, none of this is really philosophizing… maybe it’s hypothesizing… or “making shit up”…)
Anyweed, I launched a tangent about where I see the research going. I mean, when I was young lad playing with Play-Doh (wait – what?), I didn’t expect things like corrective eye surgery, tendon replacements, or cloning to ever be possible. After all, could cowboys imagine TV?
I know the tests so far haven’t provided anything as spectacular as regrowing hair in bald spots or reconnecting injured spinal cords (I’m not weighing these examples as the same, at all… yes I am). But in time, these leaps in medicine may happen. Things like head/brain transplants could be as common as corrective eye surgery.
The flip-side, of course, is the mad scientist aspect – that things like head/brain transplants could be as common as corrective eye surgery. Will individuals be able to personalize themselves with the genetic equivalent of tattoos and piercings (“hey, check out my back ears”)? I still feel we’ll know there’s been progress when we see a headline akin to this: “Scientists Accidentally Give Test Subject Vision… Via His Penis.”
The upside to that scenario is you could tuck a video iPod in your drawers and watch a movie while at work… sorry ladies. Although you already do have the magic bullet… and I’m not talking about the blender.